


Hope

by Cassandra_Elise



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Episode Fix-it, F/M, Hopeful Ending, One Shot, Sexual Tension, Wishful Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 16:10:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15368310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassandra_Elise/pseuds/Cassandra_Elise
Summary: "'So, is it true?' he asks. 'Is it true you no longer—' He can’t bring himself to say it, as if putting his scattered thoughts into tangible words will make them a reality. As long as they remain unspoken, there is still hope."In episode 5.21, Cuddy confronted Cameron about her feelings for House, which eventually led Cameron to marry Chase. This is an alternate look at that scene. Major character death mentioned, but it's been nine years, so is it really a spoiler?





	Hope

The knocks on her door are swift and succinct, barely perceptible above the strains of Ravel’s _Valses nobles et sentimentales_ , and yet, without any aide from her peephole, without uttering the clichéd inquiry, _Who’s there?_ , Cameron knows it’s him. There’s something about the way the metal handle of his cane sounds on her oak door, or maybe it’s the measured _rap, tap, tap_ that gives him away. In any case, she braces herself for a barrage of insults and ill-placed innuendo.

House gives her little time to answer the door before he pounds on it again with the force and ferocity of a monster truck. “I’m coming!” she shouts over her music, and then, thinking the better of it, silences her CD with a flick of her remote control. 

It seems she pries open her door as slowly as possible just to irritate him. “Hello, House,” she finally says with a false cheerfulness that wouldn’t fool a two-year-old. “What can I do for you?”

“You can cut the annoying Barbie act for starters.” He thumps his cane on the floor for added emphasis. 

She doesn’t know why, but she lets him in. Blame her fit of insanity on her oncoming headache. Blame it on her pulsating heart, which is beating out a fast Samba against her ribs. Whatever the reason, she knows the quickest way to remove a problem is to deal with said problem, and House on any day at any time, is a major problem. And since Kutner’s unexpected death, House has forgone any attempts at social niceties. 

He plants himself on her sofa, a clear indication that he’s staying for a while. “There’s a rumor going around the hospital about you.”

Cameron laughs softly, ironically. “Since when did you care what people said?”

“I only care because it’s also about me. I’m selfish that way.” His hollow voice reflects his eyes, two sunken cavities one would expect to find on a cadaver, not a living man. “Anyways—a little birdie told me that Cuddy says—“

“Oh, here we go,” she murmurs.

“—That somebody has been a very disobedient girl. Mouthing off to your superior?” He makes admonishing sounds in the back of his throat. “What next? Sleeping with a coworker? Oh wait. You’ve already done that.” 

She ignores the barb, but the tempo of her heart’s Samba speeds up. “Cuddy was the one out of line.”

“Really?” His tone is difficult to place: part sarcasm, part earnest surprise, maybe even a pinch of hope. “So tell me your side of the story.”

“Why?”

The simper on his face dissipates. “Because I’m a nosy bastard who needs to know everything about everyone. Why else?” he spits.

“You’re not God, House. You can’t know everything.”

"Maybe that would mean something to me if I actually believed in a Higher Power.”

She deflects him, a maneuver he is sure to recognize. He is the master. “What did Cuddy tell you?”

“Cuddy didn’t tell me anything. A little birdie told me that Cuddy—“

“Yeah, yeah, I get the point.”

A stifling quiet envelops them, a mocking reminder that the distance she’d put between them over the last two years hasn’t extinguished their underlying tension. If anything, it’s become stronger, the close quarters dredging up dormant feelings that Cameron had long considered dead. She curses her weakness, or is it merely human nature? Perhaps love never dies, no matter how strong the effort to drown it in denial or bury it under half-felt emotions.

“So, is it true?” he asks. “Is it true you no longer—” He can’t bring himself to say it, as if putting his scattered thoughts into tangible words will make them a reality. As long as they remain unspoken, there is still hope.

“Is that what she said?” Her voice is even lower than his. “Why do you care?”

“I care because it doesn’t add up. You giving up a week in paradise with Blondie to work with me . . . you’re either a martyr, or you want to jump my bones.”

“Perhaps I’m just that altruistic.”

“Give me a break. Nobody is that selfless.”

Her silence is her only reply.

“Just . . . tell me. Humor me.” His sunken eyes reveal the first bit of emotion in weeks: pain.

Cameron could never stand the suffering of another human, even if that human was the misanthropic and miserable House. Her exasperated sigh serves as her acquiesce. She tells him . . .

*****

Cameron hadn’t remembered how draining it was to solve a case. From her tedious ER position, the diagnostics department had seemed challenging and even fun, certainly better than caring for patients even the most inefficient nurse could handle. But now she was virtually leading the diagnostic team as House larked about, pretending he wasn’t affected by the death of one his ducklings.

She was sitting in a corner of the ER, puzzling over the patient’s symptoms, when Cuddy approached her. Cameron cringed. She was certain Cuddy was going to tell her that House had sent her patient into cardiac arrest, but she should have realized Cuddy had little interest in the affairs of her hospital anymore.

“May I speak to you for a moment?” Cuddy tried to smile, but her thin lips wavered, and the result was a disturbing mixture of a grimace and a grin.

“Of course.”

“Chase was telling me how worried he’s been.”

Confusion spread across Cameron’s face. “About the patient?” 

Cuddy vehemently shook her head, her coiffed hair slapping her cheeks from the force of her movement. She licked her lips, as if deciding how to proceed. “Chase tells me you gave up going on a vacation with him to work on this case.”

Cameron felt her temper flare at the audacity of this woman. What business was it of hers what she did or didn’t do? Aloud, she said, “I felt the patient’s needs were greater than my own.”

“Chase suspects an ulterior motive.”

So that was it. Why did it always come back to House? This was a joke. A sick, sick joke. “And what do you suspect?”

Cuddy was clearly taken aback, perhaps even cornered, at her snappish retort. “This isn’t about me.”

“Clearly not.” The sarcasm dripped from her voice. 

“I just don’t want you to ruin a good thing with Chase.”

“Says the woman who didn’t want us to hook up in the first place because it was against ‘policy.’”

Cuddy had reached the end of her patience, as well. “You have to admit it’s suspicious: you giving up your free time to work in the department you willingly left two years ago and with a man nobody can stand.” She looked straight into Cameron’s green eyes, and Cameron could see how determined—and frightened—she was. “Are you in love with House?”

It took all of her self-control not to scream. “Why do you care?” 

Cuddy looked like she had been hit with a 2 X 4. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” she mumbled.

“Bull.” Cameron was surprised at her own anger. “You’re jealous. You’re jealous that I’m spending time with House, moving in on ‘your man,’ while all you can do is stand from a distance, moony-eyed and pathetic.”

Cuddy’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“For your information, I have no desire to make a move on House. My interest in this case is purely professional. I want to help the patient, that’s all.” _And help House get out of his slump_ , she wanted to add, but she felt it was better not to add fuel to a blazing wildfire.

“And you’re completely over House?” Cuddy eagerly eyed her like she was a banana split.

Cameron smiled calmly yet assertively. “I have no reason to tell you that. It’s none of your business who I like or dislike.”

“But Chase is worried—“

“I will deal with Chase. Thanks for your concern, but we don’t need a mediator,” she added dryly. 

Cuddy’s shoulders slumped, and she turned to go, seemingly defeated. After taking several tremulous steps, she paused, straightened her posture, and swiveled around for a second confrontation. “You’re not lying just to get rid of me, are you?” Her voice cracked with desperation, and Cameron couldn’t help but pity the Dean of Medicine, despite her utter annoyance at her curiosity. “Please, promise me you’re not lying.”

“I’m not lying about my reasons for helping the patient.”

Cuddy’s brow furrowed. Clearly she found the answer unsatisfactory. “Can you at least promise me there’s no trouble between you and Chase?”

“I will not.”

“But—“

“Look, you’ve butted your head where it simply doesn’t belong. I must—respectfully—ask you to leave.” Cameron pointed at the ER exit for added effect.

Cuddy’s jaw went slack. She moved her mouth, but no sounds emerged. Numbly, she left, her stiletto heels clacking noisily on the polished tile.

Trembling from head to foot, Cameron slumped against her chair . . .

****

“Well,” he simply says.

Cameron’s lips turn up into a coy smile. “I take it that isn’t the version you heard.”

“I was told you were over me.” His eyes are lit with amusement and something else—something akin to passion, a foreign emotion for the usually apathetic doctor. “And yet, you never admitted that.”

“No,” she concedes. The Samba starts up again. She’s afraid her heart is beating loud enough for him to hear and will betray her feelings.

“Well,” he reiterates. Rarely has she seen him speechless. The idea makes her feel unbalanced, like the planets will fall out of alignment if House doesn’t find his voice. 

“This gives me something to think about.” He slowly and calculatingly rises to his feet, planting his cane firmly in front of him to steady himself.

“What? That’s all?”

“What do you want me to do? Throw my arms around you and say ‘darling’ in a saccharine tone that will set your hair on edge?”

Cameron swallows around the lump forming in her throat. “I expect you to taunt me mercilessly, chanting in a singsong voice how you were right about me not being over you.”

“For all I know you are over me,” he protested. “You were very vague. No wonder you pissed off Cuddy.” His mouth twitches and his blue eyes actually sparkle, as if he is envisioning the heated confrontation between the administrator and the kick-ass doctor. “Nicely played, by the way.” His one hand is on the doorknob, the other clutching his cane like a lifesaver.

“Chase and I broke up,” she blurts out.

He stares at her in his infuriating way: unblinking, emotionless, as if he is probing her innermost thoughts. She holds his gaze as best as she knows how. He hesitates, and for a moment she thinks he is just going to walk out without saying a word. Instead, he takes an imperceptible breath and lets it out slowly. “I know.” 

Then he’s gone, but an overwhelming sense of serenity remains. The type of feeling that has taught her over the years to hope.


End file.
